Dumbledore's Last Thoughts
by A. Lee
Summary: No one is omniscient, not even Dumbledore. Many have speculated why he hired Lockhart, Quirrel, and Crouch. Maybe he just didn't know. One-shot.


Ah. A new batch of students this year. Perhaps I shall service them better as Headmaster this year. Unlike the year before. And the year before that. I survey the staff table.  
  
There's Severus Snape. Poor Severus, an outcast from youth, and ever since. Lured into the grasp of evil, yet escaping before truly entrenched with no escape. I look at him, and I smile, knowing that at one time, at least, I was a good enough Headmaster for my students to rely upon. After all, when all else failed, he did turn to me. So I must not have been too bad of a Headmaster.  
  
There's Sybil Trelawney, so frightened of her Inner Eye, that she disguises it amidst floaty scarves, bangle bracelets, and a silly manner. But why shouldn't she be afraid? To get his hands on her, Voldemort killed every member of her family, as well as her new baby. And she still had the strength to refuse. I do admire her, in a way. At least she trusted herself enough to tell me of her Gift. That is one thing I have accomplished, at the very least.  
  
I see Minerva. Her black hair is almost entirely iron gray now. Her expression is sober. I remember her as a student. She was intelligent and a voracious learner. She was fiercely loyal to her house, and had a very bright future ahead of her. Head Girl in her time, she was quite happy until that owl in Seventh Year. After finding out that her parents had been gruesomely murdered, she sought comfort from her boyfriend, Tom Riddle. The details of that night are unclear, but she purposely avoided him ever since then. Minerva doesn't like her past. It is obviously too painful. But while it does not do to dwell on the past, it does not do to ignore it either. I hope she learns this soon.  
  
I look out and sigh.  
  
I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts. I used to promise myself that I would never be another Headmaster Dippet, who was a good but biased Headmaster. I would become a Headmaster the students could count on. Could rely on.  
  
I have failed. Everyday, I see my failures pile up.  
  
The students? I want them to trust me. Yet, proof is shown every day that they do not.  
  
If I had made the right choices, paid attention in the right places, Severus would not have been in the grasp of evil in the first place, much less be forced to escape from it. Remus would have learned to accept his lycanthropy, rather than fear that others would fear it. And three years ago, he would have been willing to tell me of his friends' secrets. Of their Animagi forms. He would not have feared my disapproval. If I had only seen it sooner.  
  
And ever since Harry Potter has arrived at Hogwarts, my failures have become more glaringly obvious. I had been forced to choose his safety over the conditions in which he would live. I had not expected the Dursleys to accept him easily, nor for them to love him. But I had expected that he would be treated decently, that he would have been told of his heritage. And I was wrong. Yet another bitter mistake.  
  
And in Second Year, young Harry chose not to confide in me of his suspicions. Of his fears. Even when I pointedly asked him. He did not trust me.  
  
After Grindelwald was defeated, and I was made Headmaster, I was afraid that the students would not see me as a confidante, but merely as a distant hero figure. And that was not what I wanted. So I tried to become closer in my own eccentric way. And I failed, it seems.  
  
In Third Year, young Harry chose not to tell me so many of his secrets. So many that could have seriously harmed him, had he not been kept under watch by carefully chosen teachers of my designation.  
  
And I failed him. In First Year, I chose to trust the one named Quirrell, despite the misgivings of my Potions Master. In Second Year, I hired that abominable Gilderoy Lockhart, who did not a whit of good for the school.  
  
And in Fourth Year, because of my laxness. I let a Death Eater become Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I could not tell the fake Alastor from the real one. And so, Voldemort reigns yet again. Because of my mistake.  
  
I have failed this school, but no longer. It has been two years since my fatal mistake in which I let Barty Crouch weaken the school's wards surreptitiously. I knew this day would come. And come, it has. I feel the forces of Voldemort overwhelming the school's wards. I hear their roars of anger for they cannot get in. And I hear their cries of triumph as they break in. I hear the shrieks of fear from the students as the Death Eaters walk in.  
  
I look at the Slytherins. There is Draco Malfoy. One who could have been redeemed, had I only been smarter. Blaise Zabini. One I could have recruited had I only paid more attention.  
  
I look at the Ravenclaws. I see the acknowledgement in their eyes. And the fear. I see faces who are not surprised. And I see gleeful faces. Among all Houses, there are traitors.  
  
I look at the Hufflepuffs. I see the shock. I see the panic. I see the friends of Cedric Diggory, who foolishly wish to avenge him. And I sigh.  
  
I look at the Gryffindors. At Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley. All of who have been through so much. Been through too much. And they are ready to fight.  
  
But they will not need to. For I will fail this school no more. I step forward, my eyes hard. Voldemort does not show fear. Yet I know he is apprehensive. He has not managed to rout me yet. He thinks he has an undefeatable plan this time. I can see the invisible walls keeping out the other students and teachers. And the spell that keeps me from using my wand to do magic. But I am prepared.  
  
He raises his wand. I do not a thing. Teachers attempt to reach me in time. Students scream. I am sorry I could not do more. The words are spoken. Avada Kedavra.  
  
Still, I do not a thing. I am calm. The jet of green light hits me.  
  
My last thoughts are happy. For in killing me, he has evoked the ancient wards of the school that only the Headmaster knows of. He is expelled from Hogwarts grounds. He and his minions. And never again shall they approach this place, those who meant harm unto this school.  
  
It is all I can do. And it is enough. Enough for hope to reign another day.  
  
Good-bye, Hogwarts. May you remember me.  
  
The End 


End file.
